


Hot Chocolate and Chill

by rebelmeg



Series: Christmas Card Ficlets [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Gen, Hot Chocolate, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 12:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17080475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelmeg/pseuds/rebelmeg
Summary: What better way to chase away the December blues than to razz Captain America?





	Hot Chocolate and Chill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mitochondrials](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitochondrials/gifts).



> This ficlet was for the delightful [mitochondrials](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitochondrials)! They picked the prompt “So….. you wanna….hot chocolate and chill?” “If you ask me that one more time, I will dump hot chocolate on you.” with Bucky and Tony.

It was December, which right away made it the worst month of the entire year. Not for any Christmas-related reasons, no. There was just a particularly painful anniversary right smack in the middle of the month that kind of ruined the whole thing for Tony.

He was just coming off day four of his “blackout week” as he’d taken to calling it in his mind, and maybe the worst of it was over. It wasn’t the 16th anymore, and that was usually the worst day. He’d be fine… or at least doing better by next week, he just needed to struggle through the next few days, and it would all be okay. Ish.

He’d been doing a lot better with the alcohol thing (he’d even been a brave boy and called it alcoholism and gone to a few AA meetings), but this week didn’t count. This week he figured he deserved a drink or six if he wanted them. 

Which led to him sitting on the couch in the communal living room, absolutely soused, with a slightly stale glass of scotch in his hand as “White Christmas” played on the TV at a low volume.

‘Tis the season, after all.

He had only been watching for half an hour when his booze-addled brain cottoned on to another presence in the room, and he looked over to see Bucky shuffling down the hall.

And, well… he looked like hell, too. Maybe it was a bad week for him too.

Tired eyes with dark circles under them focused on the movie, then landed on Tony. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

“Nah. Wanna join me?” Tony managed not to slur, but it was a close call as he gestured to the rest of the empty couch. “We can hot chocolate and chill.”

Bucky snorted, so clearly he’d caught up enough on his pop culture and slang to get the reference. “You’re flying three sheets to the wind and look like you haven’t slept in days, the only thing I’m doing with you is getting you aspirin and staying outside the vomit zone.”

Tony nodded, shrugging. “Yeah, fair.”

“I want hot chocolate now, you want some?”

“If you’re buying.”

A few minutes later they were sitting in companionable silence, watching the movie and carefully sipping at their steaming hot chocolate. It was nice, being around someone but not needing to talk, even given their absolutely disastrous history.

Halfway through the movie, another insomniac joined the party in the form of Steve, who took one look at the two of them on the couch and headed for the kitchen to get his own hot chocolate.

Messing with Steve was one thing 100% guaranteed to lift Tony’s spirits, so he caught Bucky’s eye and winked.

Sniggering and completely ruining the effect, Tony leaned closer and put on his very best bloodshot bedroom eyes. “So… you wanna… _hot chocolate and chill?_ ”

The choking, spluttering sound from the kitchen was the best kind of reward.

Bucky just rolled his eyes, but he was grinning too. “You ask me that one more time, and I’ll dump that hot chocolate on you. I’m not that kind of boy.”

Steve choked again, and Tony started laughing so hard he really did dump his hot chocolate on himself. That got Bucky going, and the two of them sat on the couch, laughing like sleep-deprived idiots, dribbling hot chocolate on their clothes and laughing all the harder when Steve recovered enough to glare at them.

It was the kind of thing that made December bearable.


End file.
